Vanya! Ben! Dad! Anyone!
by newsbians
Summary: Five needed Vanya and Vanya needed Five.


"Simply put, you are ordinary, Number Seven." Sir Reginald Hargreeves answered in his characteristically low tones. "No more questions will be asked of this matter." The rest of the group kept their eyes carefully trained on the carpet, not willing to put themselves in the line of fire. Their father never lost his temper, no, he wouldn't yell or break things or threaten them any type of harm. It was simply the shame that was attached to his scoldings, the cold shoulder the others would be forced to offer to make sure that they didn't dig themselves into the hole. In private tears would be shed, in the dark corners of the room where they could let their small shoulders shake and hide their wailing into stuffed pillows.

Vanya had learned this best.

Five knew it, and knew it well. They shared a wall, a well built wall of wood that stood between the two siblings, although they considered the word too harsh. Siblings indicated that they were distant, they spoke to each other at holiday parties with their spouses and two point five children. They were brothers and sisters, seven people who protected one another and bickered until they drove Pogo mad, they knew their deepest secrets and darkest fears. Some were more invested than others, and they found ways to naturally pair off, (Diego was always Mom's favorite) but they loved each other, no matter what happened.

Vanya and Five always met in the middle. They were different as different could be, Vanya, a girl on a desperate search for belonging, Five, a boy who knew where he stood with the world and respected that. However, they found ways to see the other's side, to see why Five's polished mask did not crack when a reported called him a _freak!_ right to his face, to know why Vanya crumpled to the floor with exhaustion after practicing violin straight through the night. No words needed to be exchanged when he watched her face fall at their father's harsh phrase that he would repeat at any opportunity that presented itself.

Just like the silence he offered as he stepped into her room exactly one hour after the argument had begun (he timed it, because he was always one to be specific) was a gift in its own right, a simple upholding of the agreement they had struck. Her eyes were puffy with tears that were gone by this point, just a solemn reminder than yes, Vanya was upset. He took his time with crossing the room, eyeing every decoration as if the room has changed in the past twenty four hours. The wood grain felt rough against his collared shirt as he slowly slid down the wall, finally settling into a cross legged sit. Routine was very important in times like these, and Five didn't want to break from the script they had written together, the same every time.

"So Dad's a dick." No reason to beat around the bush when the obvious has been tossed in your face like a cup of hot coffee. (Mmm, coffee. Maybe he could bribe her to sneak out for some later, once she was feeling better.) This line used to make the girl giggle, especially when they were younger and curse words were a mystical part of the english language that Mom would scold them for using. Not that it stopped them, even if they didn't understand the meaning of them. Klaus had a knack for discovering them, especially from the group of older boys he would sometimes disappear off with in the middle of the night. Vanya worried for him too, waiting up with the lights on and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, occasionally joined by Ben if he knew the crowd was unusually rowdy. They were older now, and Klaus left for days at a time and Vanya no longer thought swear words were taboo.

Her eyes lifted to meet his, lips set in a tight line and snot dried on her chin. Maybe if he was two years younger he would've made snide comment on the state of her appearance, but he stayed quiet. She had seen him in worse positions before, tears of pain streaming and mixing with the blood on their bathroom counter as she wiped the tattoo on his wrist, tugging her own sleeve down as to not reveal the fact that she had, at one point, wished for one that matched his. Or the time he had a cold so bad it left him bedridden for two weeks, and she whispered to him that he had the skin of a vampire. He pinched her so hard it left a bruise.

The brother and sister sat in quiet, not needing the words to fill the gaps. All they needed was each other. Vanya had Five, and that was enough.

It was the fire that scared him the most, which was surprising for all. He had never liked it, the substance that none of his powerful brothers and sisters could control, despite the fact that they had reign over practically everything else. Here, in this wasteland, it had no control over its own self, raging in small spots, spreading to others.

Dear God, he couldn't push himself past the visible border. That's what Father had always called it, the Visible Border, the thin line that separated himself from the rest of the world's seeing eye. Hands balled in tight fists, he visualized the world he needed to be in, and pushed. Pushed. _Pushed_. Harder. Nothing.

The fire was what lit the metaphorical match inside of him, the one that told him to _run boy, run,_ run as far as you can, find something that looks familiar in this godforsaken place. He took off down the crumbled sidewalk, dodging past crashed cars and chunks of asphalt, until he arrived at the gate of his family home. Five didn't know exactly what he was expecting, but until this moment he had thought the Hargreeves mansion to be impenetrable, indestructible, and lasting forever. It was like twinkies, right? People said those never expire. _That's their difference, I guess,_ he thought wryly. _The house went to shit. _

What was left of the house somehow stood tall, like it knew that even if it was the remains of a better time, it was still expensive and the mark of a noble man. Noble wasn't the right word, no, maybe haughty instead, maybe powerful, but not noble. Five stared openly at the charred gates of steel that had once kept him from the world under the guise of safety, and now all he could do was try to quell the racing of his heart. The safety that Sir Reginald Hargreeves was so invested in was bullshit, Five was quickly learning. There was no way he could have protected him from whatever this was from happening, he couldn't have protected Five from jumping into the future. The only thing that could've kept him safe was the pull of doubt he felt when Vanya had given an imperceptible shake of her head at the dinner table to warn him: _Stop. You're pushing it too far._ And he had.

That thought had his throat close up in a panic. "Vanya!" He yelled into the wind, as if she would peek her head out from behind the rubble and tell him everything would be alright. "Ben!" Ben. He loved Ben too, soft and sweet Ben, Ben who never wanted to harm anyone. "Dad!" Not Dad, Father, cold and distant. "Anyone?" His voice cracked in desperation, and he turned to face the waste land before him. He was completely and utterly alone. He needed Vanya, that would have been enough.

Of course she didn't understand. No one on the face of this fucking earth would understand, except maybe the Handler. The thought of being found in this impossible game of hide and seek he had started with the program made an aggressive shiver run down his back.

"Five. Wait." Vanya said, causing him to pause before he gripped the handle of her door. "Just. Stay here tonight. And we'll figure things out in the morning. It's late, I have lessons early tomorrow." Without turning around, Five knew that she was wringing her hands together. "Please."

So he found himself sitting on her couch with another cup of coffee wrapped in his hands, a blanket and pillow folded neatly beside him. Vanya had already gone to bed, softly wishing him a goodnight and a promise to solve 'the end of the world' tomorrow. She didn't believe him, though. Her voice betrayed her. Five was alone in the mission of the end of the world, and all he had to aid him was the goddamn glass eye. Draining the contents of the mug, he set it gently on a coaster on the side table and laid down on the couch, not taking his eyes off the string of numbers that were inked on the glass eye, worn smooth from years of polishing.

The hum of a violin came from the room next to him, startling Five back into reality. It didn't last long, the singing of the strings going for about four minutes, but it reminded him of years spent in that cold, dark house. A time when Vanya's music felt like the only human thing for miles.

For the first time in forever, his eyes slid close without trepidation. There was nothing to fear here. He was home. Vanya and Five had each other, and that was enough.


End file.
